Whatever Montague was planning, it didn't happen yet. They were almost to the end of November, and he hadn't so much as looked at her.

She just wished the other Slytherins would follow suit. Sleep was now entirely impossible. No matter what corner she tried to tuck away into, they'd always find her. The first night the Quidditch team (sans Pucey and Montague) cornered her in the study room, disarmed her before she could realize what was happening, and forcefully shaved her head, writing insults in ink on her scalp. She thought about ending it all that same night, but when she woke up, it had all grown back.

Hazel sat alone at breakfast the next morning, glaring at the dementor outside the windows as she ate her cold breakfast between sips of cocoa. She kept looking over at her former fellow Gryffindors, but none were offering her any sympathy. Ron was pointedly refusing to look at her, Neville sat with his back to her, while Hermione was consistently giving her looks of deep disgust. She was too afraid to try Katie.

Hazel let out a little sigh after the latest glare from her former friend, and then tried to take another bite. She was stopped by somebody pouring blazing hot cocoa over her head, followed by a cheer of laughter from her fellow Slytherins. Millicent Bulstrode walked away from her, where an irate McGonagall was already waiting to berate her. Nobody bothered to help her. She wiped the cocoa out of her eyes, and then rose from the table, enjoying the look of horror that was now adorning Hermione's face instead.

At least her misery was good for something. She slung her bag over her shoulder and headed off to the nearest bathroom so she could clean up. She ignored the throbbing and burning on her scalp and skin. It'd all fade away eventually.

"For sneaking out after curfew, sir," Hazel recited. She didn't bother to look around at the Gryffindor class.

"And what is it you have to do, Potter?" Snape asked.

"I have to rewrite the school records, sir."

"Then you best get to it," Snape said.

Hazel walked slowly to her seat and started working. She was on the F's, now. She heard somebody trying to get her attention, but she ignored it. She had to write the first of the punishments for Albert Faulkner. Poor bloke got caught blowing up a toilet in his third year. A lot of that went around; she saw at least a dozen incidents of it in just the A's.

"Lily!" somebody said in a carrying whisper. Hazel ignored it since that was no longer her name.

"Hazel!" they tried again.

Hazel glanced up, saw Lavender waving to her from the nearest table, and then turned back to her work, not wanting to be bothered. The girl kept trying during the rest of their class time, but Hazel wasn't going to get her into any trouble. She was lucky Snape didn't notice she'd changed tables as it was.

"Class dismissed," Snape said as the bell began ringing half an hour later. "You will write two metres on the process of dissolving a poison, due next week. You heard me, Weasley. Do not turn in another foolish attempt at circumventing the restrictions. I expect your writing to be as illegibly small as Granger's."

Hazel stayed seated as they left. She still had another half hour to go before Snape would let her leave to her next class.

She was snapped out of her work when Lavender leaned on the desk. Hazel tried not to stare where she wanted to.

"Hazel, I need to talk to you," she said in a whisper. Snape was cleaning up at the front, his back turned.

"Can't," Hazel said. Lavender had a little beauty mark next to her nose that she never noticed before.

"It's important," Lavender said. "I need to-"

"Brown!" Snape barked from the front. Lavender jumped so high in her fright that Hazel was worried she hurt herself. "What do you think you're doing?"

"I was just-"

"Three points from Gryffindor," Snape roared, striding towards her and grabbing her by the arm. "And I'll have a detention from you, I think."

Snape closed the door firmly behind her companion and didn't so much look at Hazel as he went back towards the front of the classroom.

Hazel got back to work.

"I must speak with you, Potter," McGonagall said after their class on Tuesday. Hazel glanced around at the emptying classroom, but not a single person came to her defense. Malfoy was laughing at her just like he always did. Hazel rubbed at her broken lip; she talked back the other day and was suitably shown her place.

Hazel didn't do anything. She stayed in her seat, staring at the blank surface in front of her. It occurred to her that she forgot to take notes during the class. That was probably why she was in trouble. She deserved it. McGonagall said something. She just took a chair from the nearest table, placed it in front of Hazel, and then sat down across from her.

"I wanted to talk about the incident yesterday morning," McGonagall said, "as well as this morning."

Hazel squirmed in her seat nervously. "I'm supposed to-"

"Let me worry about Professor Snape," McGonagall said. Hazel noticed her nostrils flare a bit. That surprised her. "How long has this been going on, Potter? That was the third cup of cocoa I've seen dumped on you just in the last 24 hours."

Hazel stared at her hands. She couldn't stop rubbing at one of the burns on her left one.

"Potter, is this why you have been acting out?"

"What's it matter?" Hazel asked quietly. "Nothing ever changes."

"I assure you that it was handled, Potter," McGonagall said. "Parkinson and Bulstrode have enough detentions to last them the rest of term."

"It won't help," Hazel mumbled. They still had plenty of time to do whatever they wanted to her in the common room.

"You did not answer my question, Potter," McGonagall said sternly. Hazel stayed silent, pressing her thumbs against each other.

"How long has this been going on?" McGonagall asked again.

"All year," Hazel admitted. She could feel her eyes burning.

"And you never thought to tell anybody?"

"Why would I?" Hazel asked. "Nothing ever gets better."

McGonagall didn't at all seem surprised to hear her say it. In fact, she just seemed happy to have her talking at all.

"You wrote to me just two years ago, Potter, asking for help," McGonagall said kindly. "Why will you not do the same, now?"

"What's the point?" Hazel asked. Nothing changed when she did. Being here was just like living with a hundred Dursleys.

"We cannot help you if you do not talk to us, Potter," she said. "Now that I do, I promise you that-"

"That you'll what?" Hazel said, suddenly feeling very angry, hot tears going down her cheeks. "Tell all the Slytherins to lay off? Thanks, Professor, I'm sure that'll go over very well. Did you hear what they were chanting at the last game?"

"I did," McGonagall said, eyebrows raised. "They are always creative with their taunts during games, are they not?"

"It wasn't to your team, Professor," Hazel said with a knowing smile. She pointed to herself. "It was to me. They carved it into my trunk. They carve all sorts of things, matter of fact. They love calling my mum- love calling me- a- a whore- they just- they won't-"

"Potter-"

"I can't sleep," Hazel said. "They- they're- if I do, they'll light my pillow on fire, or- or something else."

McGonagall seemed horrified at the mere thought of it, and Hazel decided it was best not to continue onwards. She'd earned them all. She didn't need their help or pity.

"I will speak to Professor Snape-"

"What's that supposed to do?" Hazel said.

"He is your Head of House, and he-"

"He'll just- he'll tell me it's- it's my fault for being like my dad, tell me I'm- I'm an embarrassment to my mother's memory. I can't take any more, Professor, I can't, I just want- I- I can't-"

McGonagall rose from her seat. "You will wait in my office, Potter."

"I'm supposed to be-"

"You will do as I say, Potter," McGonagall said sternly. "I will take control over your detention today. I never should have relented in the first place. You will be missing Charms. I will ask Professor Flitwick to send you the work later."

Hazel stared at the floor while she waited, scratching at her irritated skin. Half an hour passed since she arrived at McGonagall's office, and not a single person came in to speak with her since. She was considering leaving, but if she wasn't supposed to go to Charms, she had no idea where else to go.

Finally, the door opened, and a tired McGonagall came into the room.

"I will be quick, Potter," she said, "I have a class to get to. You will stay in here until curfew; you are excused from your classes for the day."

"Why-"

"Let me finish," McGonagall said. "You may use this time to catch up on homework, sleep, or whatever else you wish. You will report to this room every weekday after your final class, where you will be given the same opportunities. You will not leave the room until curfew, or supper if you wish to dine downstairs. I will check in on you occasionally."

"Why are you-"

"I have already arranged for food and drink," McGonagall said, pointing towards the desk. Hazel followed the motion and was surprised to find a platter of sandwiches and a pitcher of pumpkin juice. "If you must, you will use the facilities on this floor."

"Professor, I-"

"I could not get you out of the rest of your detentions," McGonagall said gently. She put a hand on Hazel's shoulder. "But I have done what I could. Use this time to relax, Potter. I will see you in class tomorrow."

McGonagall aimed her wand in the air, and without a word, a silver cat leapt from the tip. It bounced around the room a few times, coming to rest in Hazel's lap. It didn't weigh anything, but she felt a pressure on her thighs, anyway, and the weight on her chest lifted, allowing her to breathe for what felt like the first time. Hazel scratched at its ears. It felt warm to the touch, and just pressing her fingers to it made her feel strangely comforted.

McGonagall left afterwards, Hazel unable to find her voice. She glanced back towards the desk. There was a stack of worksheets waiting for her. Hazel started reaching for those, to get started, thought better of it, and then grabbed a roast beef sandwich instead.

Whatever McGonagall did, it only improved things in the private eye of the staff. When she returned to the common room that same night, she found the carvings returned to her trunk, this time with worse insults, most of them comparing her promiscuity to that of her mother's. A few looked as if somebody had tried to fill them in.

Hazel ignored them. She brought out her typewriter from the confines within and set to work. She hadn't used it in a long time, but her heart was still feeling lighter, and there were things she wanted to get done.

The hours left before lights out went by quickly, and when the lights did go out, it came as a surprise. Hazel didn't bother being quiet while she packed her typewriter back in the trunk. She didn't care if anybody complained. Somebody levitated a cup of water from nearby and dumped it on her while she tried to sleep. She dried herself off on her blanket, set the empty cup aside, and did her best to rest. She was just lucky they didn't decide to boil it first.

The weight on her chest was back the next morning, but she managed to eat a full breakfast despite it. She even went back for seconds, something she hadn't done in ages, and drank plenty of cocoa. Her eyes kept darting towards the dementor at the windows, always staring inwards, but she almost felt like she could ignore it and the voices in her head. Hazel was surprised not a single Slytherin tried to say anything or do anything the entire time she was awake. None of them would even look at her.

Hazel left feeling full, if nothing else, and hurried off to Transfiguration. McGonagall started them on lengthening their hair, promising to revert it back to normal afterwards, as they weren't going to learn how to shorten until the next term.

Hazel's hair trailed on the ground by the time class was over, and she was feeling immensely pleased with herself; most of the class didn't manage so much as an inch. McGonagall offered her a small smile, shortened it, and then sent her on her way to Charms.

In Charms, they reviewed what they already covered in previous weeks, and Hazel finally got the Cheering Charm to work. She did overdo it, since she didn't expect anything, causing Millicent Bulstrode to double over in a fit of mad laughter. That got the girl sent off to the Hospital Wing. That made her a bit worried; she didn't want the second years seeking revenge over it. She spent the rest of the class sitting in silence and then skipped Herbology.

That night, Hazel pulled her typewriter back out and got right back to work, ignoring the glares and comments of the girls nearby. At some point, she fell asleep, typewriter still on her lap, and put it to the side when she woke.

Something changed. She didn't know what it was, but none of the Prefects were letting anybody come near her. When she walked through the room, girls tried to hurry away from her. Not a one said a word to her. She took a quick shower, changed into fresh robes, and then left the common room, heading straight for the breakfast table. Not a single boy tried to grab or trip her as she passed.

She might have thought it reassuring, if she didn't know they'd just be planning something much worse.

Lavender was clearly trying to grab Hazel's attention. Hazel could take the hint, and she was finally in the mood for it. She gestured for Lavender to meet her in the Great Hall, and then got up.

"I've been trying to talk to you all week," Lavender said breathlessly as she ran up to Hazel. They were waiting by the entrance to the dungeons. Hazel didn't like those dark rings under Lavender's eyes, or the way her shoulders were slumped.

"What did you need?" Hazel asked.

"I don't know how much longer I can look after your cat, Hazel," Lavender said nervously. "Ron's been- well, he's been worse off than usual."

"What for?"

"Scabbers disappeared a few weeks ago," Lavender said quickly. "I know it couldn't have been Weasley, because he was with me the whole time, but Ron found blood on his sheets, and he's convinced that he-"
"If it's been weeks, why did he invite me to the party?" Hazel asked.

"Because he was coming around on it," Lavender said, "But when you didn't show up, he thought it was as good as a confession, and-"

"You have to keep him," Hazel said. "I can't bring him into the common room."

"Hazel, I can't-"

"Please," Hazel said, holding onto her arms. "I- they'll- they'll- they'll kill him, Lavender." She hated to say it; she wanted nothing more than to hold her cat again, to feel him sleeping against her body. But she wouldn't be able to watch him while she was out. She couldn't trust any of these people.

"All right," Lavender said quietly, looking scared. "I- I'll watch him, Hazel. Are you all right? Do you need help, or- do you need me to-"

"Potter!"

Hazel let go, feeling her shoulders slump. She was supposed to be in detention. She left Lavender without another word and marched down into the icy dungeons, Snape snapping at her heels.

Hazel set her finished work aside, then dug out her History of Magic book. The weightless cat shifted on her lap, always taking whatever position she found most comfortable. Hazel scratched it again, then reached for the platter of sandwiches at her side. It wasn't as good as her cat, but it was as good as it got.

She glanced over at the clock. It was almost time for her to leave. She shoveled one more sandwich down her throat then downed a glass of cold pumpkin juice. The cat on her lap disappeared suddenly, bathing her back in the cold of the castle. That was her cue to leave.

Hazel jogged down the hallway, feeling good. The sandwiches made for a good snack, but she could really go for more. She was starting to feel like a human again, with hardly a single injury tingling on her body.

She turned down a corridor, heading towards the staircases, when something was thrown into the ground in front of her. She gave a squeal of fright as she leapt almost a full metre backwards. She scrambled to keep her balance, hand reaching for her wand.

"Ah! Silly Little Lily!" Peeves bellowed, his ghostly teeth stretched into a wide, manic grin. "Just the girl I wanted to see!"

"Peeves, what are you-"

"Brought you a little gift, I did," Peeves said, taking a reclining position and pointing downwards. "Someone left it downstairs. Couldn't have your personal property go missing, could I?"

Hazel took a good, long look at the broken machine laying below Peeves, feeling her heart sink.

"Who gave you my typewriter, Peeves?" she asked in a thick tone. She forgot to put it away this morning. They couldn't even let her have this one thing.

"Why, nobody gives ol' Peevesey so much as the time of day, do they?" Peeves said. "No, not even a single little-"

"Reparo," Hazel said, kneeling down towards the poor thing. The keys straightened and some returned to their place, but there were still a few missing, and all the knobs were gone. A quick glance around told her that they weren't in the hallway, either.

"Not supposed to be casting magic in the hallways, are we, Potty?" Peeves said. "Why, whatever would the staff think, if Filch were to find out?"

"Sod off, Peeves," Hazel said. She scooped the typewriter under one arm and set back off down the hallway, Peeves flying after her and throwing more taunts.

"Why, Potty, you didn't mean to go telling ol' Peevesey to sod off, did you?" Peeves said. He was still reclining as he floated along beside her.

"Keep following me, Peeves," Hazel said as she turned off into the dungeons. "I'm sure the Bloody Baron will love that."

Peeves blew a raspberry at her and then flew off. The Bloody Baron was the only being in the castle that Peeves was scared of, aside from Dumbledore.

Hazel walked into the common room feeling miserable again. The Slytherins laughed as she passed by. None talked to her directly, but she could hear them making jokes and disparaging her. They found whatever loophole McGonagall left, and it only took them a few days. They'd find more soon enough.

Nothing ever got better.

She put the typewriter, or what was left of it, back into her trunk as carefully as she could, and then turned in early, pulling her blanket tightly around her so nobody would try to bother her.

Hazel didn't try to eat. She continued sitting up in the Astronomy Tower, where nobody could find her. She already knew how happy everybody would look, sitting down there and eating together. She wanted no part of it.

The Astronomy Tower was the only place in the school she could find where there were no dementors. Perhaps they didn't think guarding it necessary. Perhaps they just didn't like it. She didn't think it mattered.

Hazel pulled her legs in closer to her when her stomach rumbled. She'd sneak down to the kitchens during Transfiguration, if she could manage it. She didn't feel like she deserved any food, but she couldn't stand the empty feeling, either.

Hazel stared up into the dreary, gray sky. She saw the owls descending from the clouds, heading for the Great Hall. She wasn't surprised at all to spy Errol veering off, heading in her direction instead.

Errol almost crashed into the stone, but she caught him, took his letter, and then sent him on his way. She almost considered not even looking at the letter, just like she did the others, but she stopped when she saw the handwriting.

This one was written by Mr. Weasley. That was enough to shock her out of her stupor, and before she realized it, she was opening it and unfolding it.

Lily,

I'm sorry. I know things haven't been easy for you, and we thought we were acting in your best interests. We've hurt you, and there's no making up for that.

If you wish, we can arrange somewhere else for you to stay. We haven't talked with Dumbledore yet, but we can settle things quickly, if that's what you need. Please write us back. If you're coming home for the Holidays, we can discuss it then.

Best Wishes,

Arthur Weasley

Hazel crumpled the letter into a ball and tossed it as hard as she could, as far as she could, watching it tumble down towards the castle grounds. She slumped back against the wall, wishing she'd never gotten her hopes up.

The Weasleys were giving up on her, just like Gran, and just like the Dursleys. She always knew it was coming, but it still hurt. She had no idea where she'd go next.

"Are you all right, Hazel?" Lupin asked after class. He called her into his office once again for a chat over tea.

Hazel took a sip, just to be doing something. She didn't answer the question.

"I noticed you refused to participate during today's practical," Lupin said. They were supposed to be practicing the Anti-Boggart Jinx for the next week. Lupin gave them each a mannequin that was modified to change into whatever they thought of.

Hazel took another sip. Lupin was quiet for a long moment. Hazel took the chance to finish her tea, hoping he'd let her go.

"I had a word with McGonagall, Hazel," he said finally. "She told me-"

"I don't want to talk about it, sir," Hazel said, setting her empty cup down. "Can I go now?"

"You seemed to be doing much better the last few days, Hazel. What has caused this sudden slide?"

"Can I go now?" Hazel repeated.

The two stared at each other for a very long time. Hazel was sure he was trying to find some way to make her stay.

The door opened suddenly, and Snape came through, carrying a smoking goblet a top a silver platter. Snape froze, looking between the people in the room, his eyes narrowing at Hazel.

"Thank you, Severus," Lupin said kindly. "You may leave it here. I will take it shortly."

Snape's eyes locked back on to Lupin. Hazel thought she saw the familiar spark of hatred flash through his eyes, but he walked forward and set the platter gently onto his desk.

"Make sure you drink all of it, Remus," Snape said coldly.

"I will," Lupin said with a smile.

"I will see you after you are done, Potter," Snape said.

"Actually, Severus, I think I will take control of her for the day," Lupin said. Snape briefly looked as if he was going to object, but then he raised his hands.

"As you wish," he said, closing the door behind him with a swish of his cloak.

Lupin lifted his smoking goblet and took a long sip, grimacing at the taste of it. Hazel kept staring at the foul, gray concoction. She thought she recognized it, but the name wouldn't come to her.

"Medicine," Lupin said as a simple explanation. "Professor Snape has been brewing it for me. Helps to keep me healthy. Now, please: what has been bothering you, Hazel?"

"I don't want to answer any questions, Professor," Hazel said, knowing what was coming.

"I will make them easy for you," Lupin said. "When was the last time you had an opportunity to talk with your friends?"

"I don't know," Hazel said. She wasn't sure if she had any friends left.

"Are they aware of the issues you've been having?"

"I'm fine," Hazel said.

"Something happened a few days ago," Lupin said. Hazel stayed silent.

"That wasn't a question," Lupin said. "Something did happen. McGonagall said you were fine when she left you in her office. Then, you skipped supper and breakfast the next day. You are no longer coming to her office. In fact, you have missed her classes since then, and you are once again not turning in any assignments."

"I was tired," Hazel lied. "Wanted a bit of a lie in."

Lupin leaned forward. "I do not know what happened to you in your life, Hazel, but-"

"No, you don't, do you?" Hazel said angrily. "You were my parent's mate, and you didn't even bother checking in on me. I never even knew you existed until you were on the train, and you didn't even say anything then. You just pretended to be asleep."

Lupin looked surprised. Hazel kept going.

"I'm tired of people worrying after me, Professor," she said. "People keep asking, but they never help, I'm always left to deal with it on my own, so what's the point?"

"Hazel, I-"

"And that's another thing," Hazel said, raising slightly out of her seat. "You always call me Hazel. I know you heard everybody calling me Lily, but you keep doing it anyway. I hate that name."

"I'm sorry," Lupin said calmly. "I thought it was a name you reserved only for those closest to you."

"No, you've got me wrong," Hazel said quickly. "I hate being Lily, I hate being me!"

Lupin leaned back in his seat. "You hate your mother's name?"

"That's exactly why!" Hazel shouted. She just noticed she was pacing, but she had too much energy to stop herself. "Every single time somebody is looking at me, they're just thinking about my mum. Snape hates me for it! Everybody wishes I was more like her, they expect it, even Petunia-"

Hazel shut her mouth, glancing at the door.

"Petunia was Lily's sister, no?" Lupin asked casually.

Hazel sat back down, placing her head in her hands. "Yes."

"What did she do?"

Hazel was silent for a long, long time. She just kept shaking her head, staring at the floor.

"What would you like for me to call you?" Lupin asked instead.

"I don't know," Hazel said quietly. "I thought I liked going by my mum's name. I just- I'm tired of- of- every time I hear it, now, I can't help but think that they'd- that they'd hate me."

"Take it from somebody who knew them, Lily," Lupin said, leaning forward across his desk. "They would be proud of who you are."

Hazel let out a snort. "They hated me."

"Why is that?"

Hazel looked up. Lupin seemed genuinely curious.

"You didn't know I was a girl after I was born, did you?"

"No," Lupin said.

"Well, they did," Hazel said angrily, tapping her hand hard across her knee, "And they didn't want one."

"Lily, that isn't true, they-"

"Then why," Hazel asked, her voice breaking. "Why did they do it? Why didn't they tell anyone?"

"I don't know," Lupin said. "I've wondered that, myself. But you have to trust me, Lily: having a beautiful daughter would have made them the happiest people in the world."

Hazel shook her head, staring at her feet again.

"Let me ask you this," Lupin said. "Did your Aunt know you were a girl before receiving you?"

Hazel snorted again. "How would I know? The only time she ever- No."

"No?"

"No, I'm not talking about it," Hazel said angrily. "Bring them up again, and I'm leaving, no matter how many points you take or detentions you-"

"I will not ask again," Lupin said. "I do not know who they would have told, Lily, but they must have told somebody."

Hazel considered it. "I have a picture. Of my first birthday." She was silent for a long time again. Lupin didn't interrupt it. "They had a banner over the table. 'Happy Birthday, Hazel.' I don't know who took the picture, Professor. Both- both of them are in it, and they're waving at- at whoever it was."

Lupin stayed silent. Hazel couldn't stand it. She just wanted him to say something, anything at all, that would fix everything. She just wanted help.

"I don't want to talk anymore, Professor," she said quietly. "Can I go now?"

"If you promise to speak with me again next week," Lupin said. "I know it feels awful right now, Lily, but I promise you, it will get better. It always does."

Hazel lagged behind the others at Quidditch practice. Nobody said a word to her so far, but she was playing it safe. Montague didn't even seem to care that she wasn't putting her most into the exercise. It was far too cold for that, especially with the dementors being so close. Today was their last practice in addition to the first day of snow. She had to keep brushing the heavy flakes from her hair, and her boots were already caked in the stuff.

"Alright, you lot," Montague shouted after fifteen more minutes. "Let's get in the sky and get this over with. Get out your Snitch, Potter. Bole, Derrick, get out the bludgers, run us through some drills. The rest of you are with me. Get up there before I get angry."

Hazel let her Snitch go before soaring off after it. It was only the second time Montague let her bring it out. Hazel was happy he'd be gone after this year. If he wasn't, she wouldn't try out for the team again. She was already considering retiring as it was. Flying wasn't much fun anymore.

Hazel went through the repetitive drill for the next hour. She'd catch the Snitch, let it fly away again, and then begin looking for it once more. It was tied to her, since she was the first person to catch it, so it wasn't entirely the same as catching a fresh one. It would return to her after too long if she didn't catch it quickly enough.

After another half an hour, Hazel was wondering how long they were planning on going. Gryffindor wouldn't be practicing today; they were already finished for the term, sitting inside where it was warm, chatting, being happy.

After another half an hour, Hazel was pretty sure Montague was making them stay out all day, and she was getting very tired, her legs starting to chafe. She still had some burns that weren't quite healed. She could feel a blister pop.

After another half an hour, Hazel found it hard to see through the thick snowfall. There was almost a metre of it pooled on the ground, and the wind was blowing wildly, chilling her to her core. It was hard to fly straight. Every time she caught the Snitch, it would stick to her slick fingers and she'd have to peel it off painfully.

Hazel saw it above her and rose up sharply, stretching out her arm for it. She heard a crack nearby, and then something very hard collided with her knee. She let out a sharp gasp, one hand flying to her leg, and then heard another crack right before the next bludger hit her head.

Everything went dark, and she felt herself tumbling through the air, before hitting the ground hard.

She heard people yelling nearby. She could only make out tidbits.

"Leave her."

"Montague, she's- we can't-"

"Pucey, if you-

"Accident-"

"Whomping Willow-"

"Snape said we couldn't-"

"Somebody will find her."

"We can't-"

"Talk and you're-"

And then everything went silent again. Hazel felt like her eyes were open, but all she could see were dark spots, and her head was pounding. She couldn't feel a single other thing, aside from a nausea inducing ache in her right knee.

Hazel tried closing her eyes, but it didn't change a thing. She felt herself getting very sleepy, and she desperately wanted to embrace it. She was just so tired.

She heard somebody walking nearby, then speeding up and crouching down next to her. Somebody ran a callused hand over her head, and she let out a moan when more pain came. It felt like her head was splitting open. Somebody tugged at her left wrist.

The person was muttering words now. Hazel felt a warmth wash over her head.

Pomfrey, she realized as she passed out.

When Hazel opened her eyes, it was dark, but she could still see. It was simply night out. Lights from the castle washed out over the castle grounds, barely managing to reach the Quidditch pitch.

Hazel tried to sit up, but a splitting headache and a wave of nausea forced her back down. She was freezing, with snow caked all over her robes and hair. Her shivers were tremulous, and every one of them made her want to throw up. The pain in her leg was sharp, and it only got worse with every jostling. Something stirred at her side, and she barely brought herself to look at it.

A shaggy black dog sprang up from her side and licked at her face happily. Hazel looked around for a sign of somebody else but could find nothing but a bundle of twigs, covered almost entirely in the snowfall.

"What are you doing here?" Hazel asked, her voice sounding alien to her own ears. She scratched Duke behind his ears, thinking about the dark Quidditch game. She thought she was just imagining it, but he must have been there.

Duke moved away from her face, moving down her torso, and then sniffed and whined at her leg. Hazel lifted her head up, ignoring the urge to vomit, and then groaned when her leg shifted slightly. She managed to bring herself into a sitting position, and then poked at her joint. She sharp breath sounded like a hiss. Even through her trousers, she could tell the knee was swollen. She glanced up at the Castle's silhouette. Somebody healed her. Why didn't they fix this? Why didn't they bring her up?

Hazel swallowed. She already knew the answer.

"Where's my broom, boy?" Hazel asked, ignoring the heavy weight in her chest, hoping the dog would understand. "B-r-o-o-m." She'd need to fly back up if she had any hope of making it.

Duke whined again, and then hopped over her, landing next to the bundle of twigs. Hazel was confused until the dog picked up the largest branch and dumped it into her lap. She lifted it up and read in bright, silver lettering "Nimbus 2001."

"Whomping Willow," she whispered to herself. She wasn't dreaming. She should have already known that. Even as she thought about it, the wind picked back up, blowing daggers of ice through her thick layers of clothing.

Hazel tossed the broken broom handle back into the pile, and then fell back to the ground, wiping at her eyes with frozen hands.

"Just leave me," she said. Her tears were scalding on her cheeks. "I want to die."

The dog barked at her, but she didn't look up at it. Then he jumped again, landing next to her head, and grabbed her hood in his teeth. He started to drag her forwards, and Hazel had to take her hands from her head just to hold her leg steady. It felt like it might break off.

Duke struggled through the deep snow as he attempted to drag her off the field. He didn't even make it halfway before he was breathing hard.

"Stop," Hazel said, taking a deep breath to steady herself. "Stop. I'll- I'll walk."

The dog let her go, circled to her side, and then sat down next to her. Hazel took another deep breath, and then attempted to stand.

Her leg crumpled underneath her, and then she actually did vomit. She used some fresh snow just to clean the taste out of her mouth, then tried again, with the same result.

The dog whined again, glancing back up to the Castle. Hazel wished she knew how to send a message to somebody. She glanced back down at her swollen knee again, and then made up her mind. She took her wand from its holster and pointed it downwards.

"Episkey," she said, thinking hard on her desire to heal herself. Spellcasting was mostly intent, as the professors liked to remind them.

She felt a burning warmth in her knee, and the pain subsided. She tried moving it, just to test the waters, and didn't feel the same sickness rising up. Duke moved to her side, tucking himself under her shoulder. Hazel took the invitation and used him to bear her weight as she stood.

Hazel took a step forward on her shaky leg. It was still aching, but it was manageable for now. She started her way through the still-falling snow.

She made it five minutes before she had to stop. She was breathing hard, covered in a cold sweat, sitting in the snow and wanting to give up. The dog kept licking her hands, kept trying to keep her moving, keep her motivated. When she tried to stand, she collapsed again, leaning heavily on Duke for support. The dog whined at her, looking back towards the castle halls, watching the distant lights as if considering something. Hazel touched her wand to her knee again.

"Episkey," she said, swallowing to avoid the bile. Her knee burned, and she started walking once more.

When she reached the steps, Duke stopped, and no matter how much she begged, he wouldn't approach them. He kept whining, staring up at the dementors. She understood. She didn't want to go up there, either.

"Go," she said, taking the chance to wipe her forehead again and reapply her healing spell. Duke glanced between her and the dementors one more time and then ran off. It didn't take long for her to lose him in the darkness.

Hazel stumbled her way up the steps as quickly as she could. The dementors stared at her past, and now it was impossible to ignore the whispers.

"You should have died with your freak of a mother," Petunia hissed as she slammed the door in her face.

"I know," Hazel whispered back.

It was hard to get the gate open, but she managed it, and then nearly collapsed onto the stone inside. She didn't bother to close the doors behind her. She kept moving forward, leaning heavily against the wall. She still had a long way to go, and there wasn't anybody to help her, just like always. They were all eating in the Great Hall, chatting happily without a single care, not even noticing that she wasn't among them.

She hated it here.

She almost made it to the dungeons when somebody called out to her.

"Hazel?" Hermione said, running over from the Great Hall doors. Hazel leaned against the wall for a short rest. "What- God, what happened to you?"

"Nothing," Hazel said, allowing herself to sit on the floor.

Hermione ran over faster, kneeling down next to her and running a hand through her matted hair.

"Hazel, you're covered in blood, I should-"

"I'm fine," Hazel snapped. She slapped Hermione's hand away and then stood up, her leg trembling. "I don't need anybody's help."

"Hazel, we should get Pomfrey or-"

"I don't need your help," Hazel repeated, accidentally shoving Hermione away when she fell. Hermione looked like she was about to cry, but Hazel found she didn't care. "I don't need anybody's help."

"Lily, I'm just trying to-"

"Forget it, Hermione," Hazel said. She started limping her way down the dungeon steps, wincing with every painful step.

"Lily, you need help, you-"

"What do you care?" Hazel spat. "Not one of you has tried to help me, not really, none of you care, all you do is scream at me, or- or try to make me remember or- none of you even helped me out of the mud. I don't want a thing to do with you, with any of you. I don't need you, I don't need Ron, I don't need anybody. Leave me alone."

Hermione looked too shocked to cry. Hazel took that as her cue to leave and limped her way down into the dark dungeons by herself.